


After All This Time, It's Still You

by KatlynnWalker



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:21:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29642247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatlynnWalker/pseuds/KatlynnWalker
Summary: Katiann and others from the original Azeroth connect in a very special way that no one understands.





	After All This Time, It's Still You

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops title is stolen from Undertale but this was also inspired by Chris Cornell's 'Patience'.

(A/N: This story was entirely inspired by Chris Cornell’s Patience whoops.)

You decide to go sneaking around in camouflage on the rooftops of Stormwind. You never stop to think to yourself what you’re looking for, because you know you’d flee if you had the slightest amount of common sense. But you just had to see this dwarf, and see if he was actually telling the truth about Teldressil. Your story was far from over. This had to be done to regain even a semblance of normalcy.  
It started off simple, at first. When you had first arrived on this Azeroth. It looked different, and you were bound and determined to explore it to the end. It was so different from your world, and you were enthralled by how different the people you once knew were. Jaina Proudmoore was no longer just the ‘wise old mentor’ that taught a couple of the ruffians you came across in the Swamp of Sorrows, no, she was younger- younger than you- and she probably hates you with a burning passion for simply being a member of the Horde. You understand that this ‘Horde’ and ‘Alliance’ is not relatively new, no, the factions have been around and at war since King Llane was assassinated.  
Yet, that is another thing that you simply cannot comprehend. On your Azeroth, King Llane- as well as the rest of the royal family- are alive and well. Admittedly, Llane is old, and Varian is King now- as he was on this Azeroth, and still should be- Varian was still too young to have a son, so Anduin wasn’t even thought of. You can not find it in yourself to blame the Guardian or his former apprentice for holing themselves up in Karazhan after every single tragedy that has occured. You shouldn’t even be here- you do not belong here.

Age worked strangely for you and your companions. You were the oldest of the group, being only Twenty-two in elven years, while Tombstone was twenty, and everyone else was sixteen. Now, you are still the oldest, in your sixties, even though it has only been a decade since you were teleported here. Tombstone was no longer this eccentric dwarf who was more than a little protective over the Wolf spirit, Goldrinn. He had become cold and distant recently, especially after Varian’s death. He never strays far from the memorial, as the late King was the previous holder of Goldrinn. 

The others- the mere teenagers- were older, some with children themselves. Fei had married your child, Khazzeron, and had a child named Katlynn. She had become a hunter like you, and you had taught her everything you knew. She had gone out on her own adventures, like her mother before her. You think she’ll have better luck than the rest of you. Lacian had really never left Grizzly Hills after she found out that Beckaw was killed by Arthas of all people. Of course, Arthas was the Lich King on their Azeroth, but it wasn’t because of the undead, there was an -incident- that ended in him being encased in ice. Whatever happened that turned Sylvanas into Forsaken was not caused by Arthas there. Here, Arthas seemed to be the bane of everyone’s existence. 

Beckaw was raised into one of his Death Knights- she didn’t exactly have a warm welcome, but she was surrounded by those that cared about her. Even the Horde members, who had to hide on the rooftops- like you are now- were there. You like thinking that they are happy on this Azeroth now, but you know that’s the farthest thing from the truth. Lacian was the second oldest- older than Tombstone, and even her own father, Velen. Of course, Velen did not have Lacian in this timeline, and Lacian never did have the heart to tell him that she was his daughter. 

You were hoping maybe Orhemi and Larilan had a better story to tell, but Larilan was also mercilessly killed by Arthas, in a one on one duel, but she never did have the skill to fight. She was raised as Forsaken, but quickly gained some consciousness as she was a Champion of Azeroth and ran off. At least she was living as a baker in Thunder Bluff, unharmed by the thoughts of war, until her childhood home of Teldrassil burned. Orhemi did not take it well either, which was expected from a night elf who had lived her whole life in Darnassus. 

Beforehand, Orhemi had not been doing well either- she had decided to leave and help Azeroth recover, but she had grown power-hungry from not being able to be there for those she cared about. You knew all of this, they had confided in you, and you had listened- documented their every word- on this world and the first. She had become a Night Warrior, what, with their blackened eyes and powerful abilities from Elune herself. You were secretly proud of this- you weren’t personally one for vengeance, never had anything to be vengeful about, a life of solitude leaves a lot to be desired, in all honesty. 

You normally would be on your small isle in Pandaria teaching young cloud serpents tricks and taking care of them- but today was not a normal day. This was the Tenth year anniversary of being here- on this other world. 

You pretend everything is normal and it is for a few moments. Stormwind looks remotely the same, just updated to match the times. You still look around for Tombstone, the dwarf was never one for secrecy, so where was he? Your question is answered as a dwarf in glowing paladin armor comes marching from the keep, bellowing a laugh. You see he is with the others- of the alliance, of course- they seem to be satisfied and happy.

Even Amagine is there, which is rare. She has become reclusive since she arrived here- they say she has joined the ‘League of Evil’ the opposite of the ‘League of Explorers’. They recently tried to take over Dalaran, but failed miserably. She was the only one who escaped. You would gladly join the Explorers’ if what Beckaw said about her old friend didn’t strike you to the core. 

You love archeology, you’ve dug up almost every piece of dirt on the planet, and you weren’t even half-way done. You even discovered a boney raptor mount that the Priestess of Elune (perhaps Tyrande, but you couldn’t exactly ask her) cursed. You found the story behind it amusing either way. Something like that would have never happened on your Azeroth. You compare these two worlds so much, you think you might miss the original. Maybe your friends need help- professional- help. Therapy is always an option, of course, but who? In the middle of wartime? When the sky is ripped open and the realm of the dead is visible? 

You realize that even in your old age you have much to learn. You grow impatient with the ones from this world for not understanding. 

You wait for the others. There are always others waiting for you.


End file.
